


Rescue

by snazzelle



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Face Sitting, Felching, Fingering, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Non-Versatile Character, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Rimming, genital disassociation, past genital torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snazzelle/pseuds/snazzelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a TWD kinkmeme prompt:<br/>Led by husbands Rick and Shane, the group bring down The Governor and rescue an abused slave, Daryl. During the course of Daryl's rehabilitation they fall in love and the couple invite him to their relationship, only Daryl has been raised as a slave and doesn't understand the concept of reciprocation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Yall are really gonna hate me for starting a new fic. I am SORRY. *looks at pile of unfinished works*  
> Also, i'm terrible at hurt/comfort. Hurrah!

“Hey Rick? I think you need to see this...”

Carol ran up to him looking out of breath, a high flush coloring her cheeks. Rick turned at the call of his name, hand shooting out to grab Shane's forearm and stopping him mid sentence. He smiled at him when Shane gave him a confused look, hands paused in front of him for some elaborate plan that would eventually clear out the roads from the one crumbled building victim of some tank fire. Despite that one problem, for how much carnage had covered the floor, it had taken them from the wee hours of the morning to very late that afternoon to clear out the dead bodies and burn them where survivors didn't have to see or smell the stench of charred flesh. The couple were looking forward to finally relaxing after the grueling battle that ended with the Governor's death and the responsibilities that come with Woodbury dropped in their laps.

Right now Rick just wanted to pull Shane into bed and hold him. His husband had stuck with him through thick and thin, running into the flurry of bullets and walkers to take down the Governor. There had been too many instances in which they nearly lost each other, heart beating hard in their chests when they happened to lose sight of each other. Since the Governor's downfall, they've been caught up with reestablishing order and building up their walls. They were a dominating pair, easily barking off instruction and getting work done, not afraid to get their own hands dirty to help their people. Rick could already feel them leaning on him for leadership, a position that just came with the victory, as much as he didn't want it, but at least he had Shane by his side so they could guide each other through it together. As Carol looked on worriedly, Rick looked to Shane and his hand dropped from the other's arm. Curious brown eyes met blues, a silent exchange that they needed to handle this before they head in. Rick smiled apologetically and the corner of Shane's lip quirked up before he fully acknowledged Carol. “What's wrong?”

“A man... I don't know. He won't come out. Michonne found him when she was going through the Governor's space. Rick, he's been there all night and day and who knows however long before that.” Carol exhaled deeply, her brows pulled together in a worried frown. She was strung up like a mouse about to run, appearing more on her tip-toes as if she'd run back to the house without hem. It always warmed Rick's heart how easily Carol took to people more vulnerable, especially after she nearly lost that about herself, but right now she needed to calm down.

“Relax, Carol. We'll check it out.” Rick said soothingly, stepping so that he was right in front of her. He rubbed up and down her arms, prickly with goosebumps. Now Rick was concerned at what had spooked her so much. “We'll go immediately.”

“He dangerous?” Shane asked and Rick hadn't even let that thought roll through. Shane cocked his head, a look like he was wondering where Rick's head might be when that man could very well hurt them the moment they get close. Rick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Carol shook her head. “No, he's weak. He's hurt.” She refused to wait, and knowing both men would come, she already skittered off.

Shane sighed, looking up at Rick under his raised brows. He looked just as tired as Rick did, both with tired circles under their eyes and a light sheen of sweat from exhaustion. Shane's arm went around Rick's shoulder, forehead planting on his temple, eyes closing tight as he sighed again. “It never ends.”

Rick laughed, rolling his head so that they were pressed forehead to forehead and then pulled away. “Lets see who it is. The Governor wasn't a normal man,” Rick's said, voice getting darker at the mention of the dead man. The battle had shown him some things, people blindly following orders due to fear, pulling the triggers of guns just so their family or themselves wouldn't be turned into walkers at the Governor's whim. It was no wonder how easy it was to turn some of his soldiers against him, and now those who survived are healing both physically and mentally. Luckily the infirmary still stood, and both Rick and Shane spent a good hour in there wrapping up bandages and finding people places to sleep. The memory of many beaten and broken people whipped-scarred and mottled-skinned into submission never failed to put a shiver down his spine.

Shane knew the thoughts flying through Rick's head and he did his best to distract him, pulling the limp hand up to bring to his mouth. He pressed his lips against the back of his knuckles, murmuring against them, “Hey, man. Come back here.” Those crystal blue eyes that had drifted over his shoulder returned and Rick scoffed, pulling his hand away with an embarrassed huff. That same hand he pulled Shane in by the back of his neck to share a short, grateful kiss before they hurried after Carol back to the house.

Carol was already waiting inside the entrance room, jumping on the balls of her feet before she caught sight of them. “Quick, he's upstairs.” She said in a hushed tone and she took a left into a thin hallway, boots thumping against wood heavily as they ascended up the stairs. She looked behind herself despite knowing they were right there. Apprehension was a heavy weight in her chest for what has become of this man, and she didn't even have to know the Governor one bit to know what abuse looked like. 

Carl was standing outside the closed door, his own face cast in a worried shadow as they approached. He met Carol half way, jumping to the side with her as both men all but ran into the room. “What's goin' on?” He asked and tried to follow, but Carol took both his arms and turned him around. 

“Go downstairs-”

“No! I heard screaming in there. Michonne's in there.”

Carol pursed his lips and met Rick's eyes behind her, feeling his burning gaze on the back of her neck. She wanted to go in and help, but it looked like she had another job to do. “She has it under control. Plus, your dad and Shane are there. Let's go.” Luckily she didn't have to drag the teenager as Carl groaned in frustration and left.

Shane stuck his head out the door, having heard the conversation from the mouth of the room. “He's becomin' more like you every day.” 

“Ya mean stubborn?” Michonne voiced and Rick snorted before stepping inside and shutting the door. She took them both through the apartment that still looked lived in with books strewn about and a blanket hanging off of a couch or a chair here or there. He knew these were the Governor's quarters and it bothered him how much this room made him look like a normal human being. He almost expected a torture chamber, maybe a severed limb here or there. What he saw was the pad of a regular middle aged man. He was surprised out of his thoughts when Michonne paused infront of another door, her hand on the door handle. “Just gonna warn you this room is like nothin' else.”

Shane shook his head dismissively. “Think nothin' scares us anymore.” He gave her his charismatic lopsided grin, a look that usually made the serious woman break into a wide, white smile, but this time it had no affect. It knocked the look from his face and he met Rick's eyes to make sure they were both ready. He got it after a few long seconds, one that he relayed to Michonne, “Let's see him.”

The room was bright, all the lamps inside on so that they could see every corner. Immediately Rick and Shane's eyes traveled to the wall of decapitated heads floating in blue liquid. They were well and truly dead now and Michonne seemed to be most troubled by them, as close to the verge of a breakdown since they've known her. They remembered how she had been captured here in Woodbury before coming with them and they wondered if she had known any of those faces. It was Shane who stepped first, shifting from one foot to the other as he stood in her line of view. Her eyes snapped away from a specific tank before they fell to the ground. Those intense brown eyes hardened where they were, and Shane held his breath when she raised them. “You don't have to be in here.”

“I've been in here for hours.” 

“Well, now you can leave.” Looking over, he could see Rick closing in on another closed door, this one small enough a young child could probably come through without slouching down first. He looked away, back to Michonne who's frame shook, her body tense for God knew how long. “We can handle this.”

“But the boy-”

Rick inhaled sharply, and Michonne twitched, head snapping towards him first before Shane could react. “A boy?”

“A man. A man, I'm sorry it's just...” Michonne let her heels of palms press over her eyes, her shoulders coming up around her neck as she paced. “Could barely see him. But the sounds he makes, Rick. Shane.” She pulled her hands away, her face and eyes red despite the absence of tears. Her voice was hoarse with sympathy and she cleared her throat to hopefully soothe the discomfort of it. Her voice still came out rough and angry. “He was locked in there like some sort of animal.”

“We'll get him out, Michonne. You've done what you could, more than what we can ask for. You could go.”

“But he could be dangerous!” 

“How dangerous could he be locked up in a room without food, water, and light? We'll take care of this.” 

She hesitated, glaring at Rick as he spoke. She turned on her heel. For as small as she was her muscles thrummed with strength. She let that all go with a huff. “I'll be in the other room.” The door opened and surprisingly shut carefully behind her. 

Upon her retreat, Shane looked over to Rick and let his shoulders fall. A silent conversation passed between the two, steering themselves on the same wavelength as they debated their first course of action. They needed to get the door open, and that was the easy part. What laid beyond that was unknown to both of them.

Rick eventually nodded, taking the initiative to approach the closed door. He could feel his other hovering behind him and can even hear him take up a nearby golf club just in case. Rick honestly didn't think they'd need it, knowing that between the both of them, an unarmed and undernourished man would be like handling an angry cat on their own. He let Shane do what he wanted though, didn't even react when the man held the club close to the edge like a mallet.

Rick closed his hand around the door knob, feeling all like some sort of bust they were included in, rather than checking up on a man that had been locked away. He could feel Shane's nervous energy tickling his back and it only worsened how Rick was feeling. The door opened with a click and he was slowly sliding it ajar, squinting into the dark once he got it half way. In front of him he saw a small cot, unmade and just a little filthy, places darkened with what looked like blood that made worry brew in the pit of his chest. Looking over to the left of the small room, he caught the shine of a silver bucket and cloths; by the smell coming from that direction Rick could guess it served the resident as a toilet. The floor was bare, cold cement and the roof was too low for any man to stand straight in. 

“Over there. Rick.” Shane murmured and it brought Rick out of his observation of the small dingy room that shouldn't of been more than a storage room. He swung his gaze over to the other side and there he finally sees the man they've been looking for, huddled in the corner as close as he could get to the ground, peering at them with scared eyes that shined from the light coming in from the open door. He was completely silent, his breath coming in shuddering inhales and shaky exhales, fingers curled hard into the skin of his bare arms and toes pressed white into the floor as if he's trying to take up as little space as possible. He seemed to freeze completely when both Rick and Shane landed their eyes on him.

Rick placed a hand over his mouth, calculating his next move in the mere seconds he gave himself before he was placing both his hands in front of him in a non-threatening manner. He kept his eye contact with the man, “Hi. You okay? Would ya like to come out here?” Rick looked down first, measuring his steps, before he was taking a step inside. “We're not going to harm you.”

The sharp, terrified inhale from the man in the corner shocked Rick to a stop, watching in silence as the man crouching low on the floor slide over to the corner. Rick tried again, keeping a hand out behind him to keep Shane back, treating the man before him like a caged animal if he had to to keep them both safe. “It's just me and Shane, here. My name is Rick. The governor's not here anymore. Just come out.”

Another loud inhale, crackling like his lungs were full of fluid. His voice came out in rasp, barely above a whisper, “No...” 

“You have to, son. Come on out and we'll take care of you.” Rick kept trying, his voice practically pleading. He was inside the room now with just enough space between them so he wasn't hovering over the trembling man, back curled just so he'd fit into the room. Shane came in closer, ducking before the doorframe. He saw what Rick saw and then he was stepping inside. The appearance of another man coming into the room only seemed to make the man on the floor panic and his gasps echoed into the small room as he pressed his body even tighter into his corner.

“Shane, you can't just-” Rick tried to grasp Shane's arm as passed him, but the man simply tugged his arm out of his hand and gave him the golf club. He chewed the inside of his cheek and trusted in his partner, despite wanting to pull him out of the room and keep both men from possibly hurting each other. He set the golf club by the door and took Shane by the wrist. “We have to slow down. Get back now.”

“No. He shouldn't have to stay in here any longer. Do you see these conditions? Am I making this shit up in my head?” Shane looked at the bed then at the bucket, lip curled in disgust. He shook his head, and decided for them all that they weren't staying in there any longer. “We're getting him out.” 

Shane came closer and he wasn't surprised when the first thing the man did was unfold enough to throw a foot wildly in his direction. It never met its target, the limb too quick for Shane to take. As the man retreated again, Shane allowed himself to go nearer and this time the man threw a fist. Shane managed to get both his hands around his forearm, tugging firmly to get the man back off the wall. “Hey, hey, hey... calm down buddy.” 

“No!” The man rasped and he trembled with the desire to get away. Shane pulled the other close to his body, pulling the struggling man to his feet, and felt the naked skin on the bare skin of his own arms. The man wasn't even allowed clothes and it made a sick knot twist in his stomach. 

“Sh... shh... Just takin' you out into the light... you're okay. You're gonna be okay.” Shane shushed, cooing into the soft hair on his head. He hadn't noticed that Rick had left him in the room alone until he was back with one of the blankets he could barely just recognize sitting out on the winged-back chair, held open so Shane could push the man into the warmth and privacy it provided. Shane nudged the man's head under his chin and he could feel how the tension in the other's body slowly uncoil. “Yeah, that's right... ain't gonna hurt ya.” Shane crooned, his aim now on getting those fast breaths to go back to normal. 

Rick was waiting for them out of the room and calling Shane's name was enough for the other to get the idea. The man had since gone slack in his arms, but the moment they took a step outside, he wiggled until one of his arms were free. He caught Shane in the face, making him reel back while Rick went to cover the man up again, both arms coming around now to restrain. Shane held his aching cheek, face scrunched up but not angry. “He's got a fuckin' good right hook.”

“You okay?” Rick grunted and managed to get the other under control. Rick had his cheek pressed to the back of the other's head and at the base of his neck, arms wound tight around the tense body and waited out the frightened tremors. Sharp breaths were muffled into the blanket covering his mouth while wild eyes locked onto Shane's in front of him. There were fine scars around one eye, like he'd been punched in the face enough times to split skin and it made Shane want kill the Governor all over again. 

“Yeah, I'm alright.” Shane said and straightened. He reached forward and paused when the man in Rick's arms flinched. He slowed down when those eyes narrowed, long blonde lashes hooded over his blue eyes, and Shane made sure keep a hold of those eyes with his own as he slowly folded the blanket down so that the man could breathe, seeing the scruff on the handsome face and the small mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Lemme go...” The man pleaded, trying to sink to the floor. Rick didn't think he was a heavy man, but he was strong, and he felt those muscles bunch and harden as the other tried to escape his grasp. 

Rick tried to calm the man like he would his own son, pushing his hand through the brown locks and feeling them slip between his fingers. Even though the man had been locked in there for hours, maybe even days, the hair felt as though he hadn't spent a minute in the unforgiving new world outside the gates and the skin he saw was free of dirt and days old grime like they all had. Instead, he smelled of musk after a couple of days of unwash, hair greasy, as was the skin of his face. Beyond that, the man was kept in good enough condition except for the bruises that littered every inch of his body.

“Just calm down. Ain't gonna hurt'cha.” Rick crooned and let the man get closer to the floor, kneeling behind him. The man had sat on the floor, legs up so that they squeezed Rick's arms against his blanketed chest to protect his body. Rick looked up at Shane, blue eyes confused and asking for any sort of help. Shane didn't look like he knew what to do either and when he stepped closer it only seemed to make the man in his arms tremble even more. Rick's kept his hold around the other firm, kept himself close enough that his breath disturbed the long hair around the man's ear. “That's just Shane. He's harmless.”

“Shit, Rick. What do I do? Tell me what to do.” Shane pleaded, arms and hands open and willing. As long as he kept his distance, the one clinging to Rick was calm, or as calm as he could be. His eyes drifted down to assess the damage, looking into a tear streaked face, catching the sight of pale skin where the blanket opened, the entirety of those thin, pale thighs. What he saw between made him choke.

“God- Rick-” 

“What? … What?” 

The agitation in their voices only renewed the other man's vigor to escape. Sharp breaths entered and exited the button nose, teeth sinking into a red bottom lip. Rick's muscles strained as he attempted to calm the other again. “What is it, Shane?” He grunted. 

“God, his... That has to hurt. Sweetheart, how long's that been there?” Shane said and crouched with the other men. The organ hanging between the man's legs was tied up tight with a leather rope, bending his soft shaft so it was tucked between his restrained testicles. The skin around it was red and swollen, the flesh of it purpled from lack of circulation. Shane hesitantly reached for the knot, stopping when the man thrashed and closed his legs. “It's alright. Jus' let me get it loose.”

“Shane?” Rick asked through gritted teeth and nearly got the breath knocked out of him as the man bucked against him. He was thrown off by the sudden use of pet names, something he hadn't seen Shane do since the last time Rick had been delirious from pain or fever. He tucked the other's head under his chin, pulling the frightened man close and falling backwards on his backside with the other desperately trying to get away. 

“Just... Just hold him. Hold him still.” Shane said and got on his knees before them. He stared into the man's face as he put a hand on his knee, his resolve almost breaking at the terrified whimper. He understood, he was a stranger in this man's eyes and the man was vulnerable and bare, but the device couldn't stay on much longer. He tried to make his touch as clinical as possible as he urged the man to spread his legs. He started fighting in Rick's grasp, but with the blanket around him he was restrained like he was in a straight jacket, and all he could do was thrash and kick out his legs. 

Shane let him. His hands flew back towards himself as he let the other pull his knees together, staring into icy blue eyes gone wild and wide. He chewed his lips nervously, hands hovering over the man's lap. “Please, man. Ain't gonna hurt ya. Promise.” Gently, he placed them down on those bony knees, prying, “Let me see what's'it done ta you.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Rick breathed. 

Shane nodded and the man between them froze up, legs open and trembling. Beyond the darkened color taking to the swollen member, Shane could see scars on the foreskin, pushed back far enough to reveal the sensitive head. He didn't need to see beyond that to take a guess at what type of torture this man endured. Shane felt anger for what had been done to this man, wondering how many years of abuse he's been through. He didn't know where to begin but it needed to be quick. 

It seemed as long as they kept their intentions slow, the man was able to bear their presence. He seemed to respond to Rick's quiet voice murmuring sweet things to get him to relax. Shane softly gripped the curves of his knees, thumbs sweeping innocently over his skin. 

The man started to calm down, but he still had a look of shame and fear as he stared at Shane and his hands. Rick was murmuring to him, things Shane could even hear beyond the ragged breathing, “Not gonna hurt you... Shane's just gonna let you go, think you'd like that won't you?” Fingers move over a white, scarred belly soothingly and the man sighed. Shane could see him actually begin to relax.

He couldn't untie the leather without touching him. The flesh of his bound penis was hot compared to the rest of him, almost burning and it made Shane outwardly wince. The only sign that the man even noticed what he was doing was a twitch of those slim legs, daring to come together but with enough restraint to remain open. A quiet noise left the man between them, strangled and resistant, stopped deep in his throat where he held it. When Shane looked up into his face, those blue eyes were shut tightly and he was holding his breath.

Rick murmured, “Quickly, Shane.” 

“Yeah.” Shane choked out, almost hating himself for putting his hands on the broken man. 

Rick could see it in Shane's face and how his hands almost shook centimeters away from the man's genitals. His lips firmed, pressed against his teeth before he said, “Lift it up and get to the knot. We gotta get it at least loose, if not completely undone... good.” The man jolted and Rick felt his strong grip around his forearms when he was touched. Shane almost looked thankful for the direction as his hands worked gently, quietly apologizing whenever he heard a hitch in the man's breath or a twitch in his muscles. “Can you get it through the loop?” 

Shane nodded, “Think so...” His voice changed as he said almost unthinkingly, “Just gonna be a little pinch, okay baby?” He got a wavering exhale while he tugged the meat of his shaft through the gap to draw it away from between his testicles. That done, he put his hands over his legs like he didn't know what to do with them. “Gonna have to cut the rest away. Ya wanna hand me yer pairing knife?” 

Before Rick could even reach around for the short knife, the man in his arms bucked, flailing again at the mention of it. Rick cursed, arms tight around his body, a hand shoved into the brown hair as he pressed his face into his neck. The man had somehow turned, hiding his front however he can from Shane who now looked guilty and worried at making the man react the way he did. He wasn't cut out for this, and groaning in frustration he looked away. “Man, we should get Carol to do this, or Hershel, or...”

“We already started this, Shane. Look how he is with just us two. Imagine if we bring someone else into this now.” Rick managed to say over the man's head. “Just leave it alone. We got the worst of it done, let him calm down first.”

Shane nodded, sighing heavily as he felt every muscle on him release with the break. Right now, Rick was nearly hidden beneath a bundle of blankets and a man swamped within. The situation sucked, but it wasn't impossible to fix and it could have been much, much worse. The man in Rick's arms was safe now, and with the way he clung to his man he could safely say the man ain't quite lost to them just yet.

“He is all over you, babe.” Shane said. Not a hint of jealousy as his voice bubbled a bit with dry and heavily misplaced humor. Rick rolled his eyes and snorted softly as he ran his hand soothingly up and down the blanketed back.

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.” 

“What?” Shane snickered and let his eyes move up and down jokingly. It must have been the exhaustion taking over as he even played a bit with the stranger, not exactly touching him, but getting close enough that he looked over his shoulder with a bit of suspicion in his cat like gaze. “You got a name?” 

The man dropped his eyes, his frown hidden behind the blanket, but Shane could guess it was there. He hadn't expected an answer and the man turned his head back into the juncture of Rick's neck and rested his forehead there, face smothered in the thick sheet.

“I just had my hands all over your bits, man. At least give me a name.” Shane couldn't help snickering at the warning glare Rick shot him. 

They were both surprised that the man responded at all, raspy and sweet as honey after only hearing his scared whimpers and cries. “M'name is Daryl.”

“Daryl. Well, that's a good name, man. Daryl. Can we call you that?” The nod they got made them both grin.


End file.
